Chapter Text
The sun came streaming through the high windows of Highgarden, the gentle rays warming Margaery’s skin as she slowly became aware of the world around her. Pulling the cord that hung above her head she climbed out of bed and made her way towards her wardrobe. Leafing through her dresses she considered the merits of each for a moment before moving onto the next one. Looking up as the door opened she beamed across at Betsy, “I think the lilac silk for today, Betsy.” She said as she turned away from her clothes.
Ignoring the knowing little smile on her maids face as she walked past the young lady of the house and made her way through to the bathroom to run her bath. Sticking a hand under the tap Betsy ensured the water was at the correct temperature, Miss Margaery liked things just so. “And will Master Robb be attending today?” She shouted through from the bathroom.
Hiding her grin well Margaery swept into the bathroom, “One would assume he would be attending his own mother’s garden party.” She answered nonchalantly.
~~~
The journey to Riverrun did not take long, not in the new motor car that Mace was so proud of. He sat in the back pleased as punch and it was all Margaery could do not to roll her eyes. She loved her father, she truly did but he was not well versed at disguising his pride or his intentions. It could verge on embarrassing sometimes.
Today it would just be the two of them and Margaery could not be happier. With her mother and grandmother she felt as though she was constantly being watched, as though they could see through all of her plots and ploys but Mace only saw his little girl. To him she would always be the seven year old who had dragged him out of his study to watch her trot around on her horse. He didn’t see that ten years had passed and his little girl had grown up under the tutelage of his own mother.
The car pulled up the gravel drive and Margaery felt her stomach leap at the sight of the old house. The car came to a smooth stop and the door was opened by the footmen wearing their liveries of Tully blue and red. Margaery stepped out and waited a moment for her father to join her on the drive. Taking his arm they made their way up to the grand entrance. It was not as half as luxurious as Highgarden but Riverrun had a rustic kind of charm.
They swept into the conservatory and were announced, “Mister and Miss Tyrell.” Mace inclined his head to the small crowd as Margaery gave a slight curtsey beside him. They were acknowledged by the crowded room, the odd face recognisable and friendly.
For every friendly face there were two unfriendly. She knew the opinions, had heard the whispers amongst the other families. The Tyrell’s were too presumptuous, they were gaudy and worst of all their crimes, they were new money. The Lannisters and the Tullys and the Starks had been someone worth talking about for hundreds of years, the Tyrells were mere upstarts who had appeared in the last 60 years yet somehow held more power than the rest of them combined.
Luthor Tyrell had established a very successful newspaper in the wake of the Crimean War and it had gone from strength to strength. Once the backbone of his empire was established Luthor let the world see his ambition. He swept up failing newspapers (normally regional), and turned them around; he shook them up, changed the way they worked and made them profitable. If he’d grown attached to the people he kept hold of it and if not he sold for a tidy profit. He did it so quietly that the Lannisters, and the Tullys and the Starks only noticed him once the reins of their world were firmly in his hands.
It was into this sometimes resentful atmosphere that Margaery, and any member of her family entered a room. The atmosphere was particularly thick when they attended an event at Casterly Rock but not today, never at an event held by the Starks Margaery thought with a smile. Catelyn approached them a warm smile looking as radiant as ever, “Mr Tyrell!” She beamed her eyes flicking across to Margaery, “I’m so glad you could make it, and with Margaery as well.” She inclined her head towards the younger woman and Margaery returned the gesture and greeting.
Sharp hazel eyes spotted the tell-tale sign that her father was about to open his mouth, stepping in Margaery covered his words smoothly with her own, “We are only sorry that it is just us. My brothers are all working and mother had a prior engagement, they do send their apologies.” Catelyn smiled graciously, “There is no need to apologise, my dear.” Her blue eyes flicked across to something at the back of the room, a collar off centre perhaps, or a drooping napkin. “If you’ll excuse me.” Catelyn asked before sweeping across the room and Margaery was left with her father for company.
~~~~~
Margaery had eventually managed to corner him a few hours in to the event after she had flitted between Baratheons, Freys, Lannisters and Arryns. Robb Stark, Viscount of Northumberland and one of the most eligible bachelors in England. That was the reason that Mace pushed Margaery towards him at any social event they both happened to be at and Margaery didn’t complain. She didn’t complain because she saw the sense in it, she didn’t complain because she wanted to be the next Countess of Northumberland and she didn’t complain because she wanted to live in a house as grand as Winterfell one day. But mostly she didn’t complain because of the way he smiled at her every time she approached him across a crowded room.
“Miss Tyrell.” He said giving her a small formal bow and she had to fight to supress the grin that threatened to bloom on her face. He was always so stiff, terrified of letting his guard down but Margaery had seen the odd chink of light escape. It showed in the way that his hand often lingered on her waist as he led her to and from the dance floor, or the way that he often found himself lost in conversation with the youngest Tyrell. “I hope you are well?” He asked his tone piqued in genuine interest.
Sipping daintily at her glass of lemonade Margaery waited a second to reply. “Indeed it, my lord.” Robb shook his head that blush that she so adored creeping across his skin, “How many times do I have to tell you there really is no need.” Shaking her head Margaery would never cease to be amazed at the naivety of the boy, “Yes there is, Robb.” She said a patient smile on her face.
He blushes a deeper shade of red at that and swiftly changes the subject asking after her brothers. Within moments they are both so lost in the moment that they miss two sets of eyes watching them intently. Mace stands and watches his youngest weave her charms around the Stark boy and he can’t hide the small smile. Stood at the opposite side of the room Catelyn Stark looks on concerned as Robb makes a fool of himself all over the Tyrell girl again.